


But we didn't feel the cold

by rydia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Kissing, Mentioned/Implied background pairings, Post Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydia/pseuds/rydia
Summary: With their duties as Duke and Archbishop keeping them apart, Felix hasn't seen his wife in months. But it's the winter holidays and they're both in Fhirdiad, and he's very much looking forward to their reunion, and kissing and sparring with her. Although not necessarily in that order.(Post Azure Moon)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	But we didn't feel the cold

Fhirdiad castle and the surrounding grounds are lavishly decorated for the winter holidays – more lavishly than it’s ever been in Felix’s life – but he hardly registers it as he hands his horse off to a servant before hurrying through the courtyard. He slips into the castle and begins his way through the maze of hallways, giving perfunctory responses to anyone that greets him, hardly slowing down at all.

He’s _late_.

Fortunately, he knows the layout of this castle as well as he does his own home, and Felix has walked this particular path through the castle – the one leading to the royal family’s private quarters – his whole life. He knows he’ll find Dimitri and all their friends there, having a celebration for the holidays. It’s difficult for them all to get together in the same place these days, what with everyone scattered across Fódlan, but they had promised to meet in Fhirdiad this year.

More importantly, Felix expects to find his own wife there too.

He had meant to be here yesterday – had been _expected_ yesterday – but bad weather had kept him in Fraldarius until this morning. He’d ridden hard, pushing his horse and instructing his retinue to seek shelter if the weather got bad – or even return to Fraldarius if necessary. He didn’t their protection, and they’d only slow him down.

In a small town halfway in his route, he’d changed horses to keep his quick pace, and while he had arrived at Fhirdiad in decent time, the short days at this time of year meant the sun had long since set by the time he and his tired horse had made their way through the city gates.

But no matter. He’s here now, and it doesn’t take him long to reach Dimitri’s quarters. The guards, more than familiar with Duke Fraldarius, allow him to pass with a warm greeting.

Felix runs into Sylvain first – quite literally. He’s turning a corner to go down the hall to where he’s sure his friends will be when Sylvain turns it at the same time, slamming into him.

“Ooof–sor– Felix!” Sylvain’s face lights up as he realises who it is he’s bumped into. “You made it!”

“Of course I did.” Felix steadies them both. Sylvain’s cheeks are flushed and he’s a little unbalanced – Felix guesses he’s had some wine. Quietly, but sincerely, he tells Sylvain, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Aww, Felix, you’re getting sentimental in your old age.” Sylvain slings an arm around him, and it’s only because Felix hasn’t seen him in over a year, and he’s missed his friend, that he doesn’t shove the arm off him.

He hasn’t seen Sylvain in so long because Sylvain has been in Sreng, brokering peace. Instead, he simply says, “Congratulations, Sylvain. Peace with Sreng. You did it.”

“Ah.” Sylvain looks a little embarrassed. “It was a group effort–“

“Led by you.”

He laughs. “You know, I’ve had Dimitri being very earnest about how proud he is of me ever since I got back here last week. _And_ Ingrid. I don’t think I can take it from you too..” Sylvain glances up, and his hold on Felix tightens. “Oh! Felix, look – mistletoe. Can I get a kiss from you instead?”

“Ugh.” Felix shoves him away, but he’s trying not to smile at the way Sylvain is laughing.

“Come on, I’m sure your wife won’t mind.”

“ _I_ mind.”

“I’m a great kisser.”

“So go kiss someone who appreciates it. Like your own wife.”

“She does love my kisses, it’s true.” A stupid smile crosses his face. “I love hers too.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Now who’s getting sentimental?”

“Everyone is a little sentimental tonight, Felix. We’ve all been drinking and telling stories. Best prepare yourself for it.” Sylvain takes a step away. “I need to go to the privy – I’ll see you in there?”

Felix nods. “We’ll catch up later.” Tomorrow, most likely. Tonight, Felix wants to catch up with his wife.

With that thought, he marches down the hall, now able to hear voices – he catches the low rumble of Dimitri, followed by the lilting laugh of Annette, and when he enters the room, the volume rises as everyone greets him at once. He gets a hug from Annette and Ashe, an awkward shoulder clasp from Dimitri, and a nod from Dedue.

When Ingrid hugs him, Felix teases her by saying that she must be pleased to see him because she put down her plate of food, and then tells Mercedes that Sylvain tried to kiss him.

She only laughs at that, saying, “Well, he is quite a good kisser,” and Felix supposes she’d know.

It’s good to see them all, especially to see them all so relaxed because while it’s been a couple of years since they’ve been at war, it’s been a stretch to say they’ve always been at _peace_. But the person Felix wants to see most isn’t here, and he frowns as his eyes scan the room.

His thoughts must be obvious because Dimitri smiles fondly and says, “Your wife needed some air. I believe you will find her out on the balcony.”

With a grateful nod, Felix makes his way across the room, parting the heavy curtains and opening the door that leads out onto the wide balcony. There’s no immediate sign of his wife, but the balcony stretches down the length of this part of the castle, all for the private use of the royal family and their guests. He begins walking, and is glad he hasn’t changed out of his riding clothes, because the chill of the winter night immediately bites into him. He’s sure it’s going to snow again.

Felix isn’t walking for long before he spots a woman wearing a long cloak in Fraldarius colours, the furred hood pulled up around her face. She's making her way towards him, passing through an archway that has been decorated for the season just like the rest of the castle – no doubt all thanks to Dedue’s efforts.

Like him, a sword hangs on the woman’s hip, even here, even though they’re at peace.

She stops short when she sees him, the only change in her expression the raising of an eyebrow.

Felix drinks her in.

It’s been seven months – seven long months – since he’s seen her, the longest time they’ve had to spend apart since they married. They write to each other constantly, but that’s not enough, and Felix is going to make damn sure they’re never parted for so long again.

He steps closer and she narrows her eyes at him, making him stop. And then he notices what’s hanging just above her – a large bunch of mistletoe. Smirking, he cocks his head, making her frown for a moment before she glances up to see what he’s looking at.

Understanding crosses her face. She pulls her hood down, revealing mint hair. It’s gotten longer, Felix sees with a pang. Another sign of the time they’ve spent apart.

Giving Felix a cool look, Byleth slides her sword out of its sheath, pointing it at him.

“Earn it,” she tells him, a challenge in her voice.

_Gladly_ , he thinks as he takes a step back and pulls out his own sword, immediately appraising their surroundings. It’s wide enough, mostly unobstructed – just some tall plants that are still green even now, something else that’s probably thanks to Dedue. The same greenery wraps around the arch his wife is standing under. The wall of the balcony is chest high. Not the best place to spar, but not the worst. Nothing they can destroy here, at least, although their movements will be a bit limited.

The wind is beginning to pick up, and as he’d predicted, snow starts to fall again.

He returns his gaze back to Byleth, to see she’s been doing the same as him; appraising her surroundings. Their eyes meet, and her lips quirk up in the tiniest of smiles before she moves.

She’s as quick as ever. Felix knows she hasn’t spent the last seven months sitting at her desk in Garreg Mach. She’s kept up with her training – complaining in her letters about the reluctance of the knights to fight against their Archbishop.

Like her, Felix has kept up with his own training. And, like her, he’s found little challenge in Fraldarius.

Now, facing Byleth again, he has a challenge. He’ll win this spar, and earn that kiss.

Their swords clash as he parries her move. Byleth doesn’t press him, but steps back, sword still outstretched, watching him as carefully as he watches her. For a moment, there is total silence, and even the wind seems to still.

And then they both move at once, and snow swirls around them, swords clashing again before Byleth dances lightly backwards, out of his reach, her cloak moving around her in a graceful flash of Fraldarius teal. A smirk crosses her face briefly before she attacks again, and they both fall into familiar movements as they dance around each other, anticipation building even as their fight remains evenly matched.

A wide swing from Byleth has Felix sidestepping easily, and her blade slices off the top of one of the tall plants decorating the balcony.

They both freeze, staring as the cut branch with its mass of leaves flops sadly down onto the stone ground.

Felix drags his eyes away from it to see Byleth’s reaction. She looks a little guilty, but her face hardens in determination as she meets his eyes.

“Whoever loses,” she says, solemn, “has to tell Dedue.”

Felix’s first instinct is to argue with that. Dedue likes Byleth a lot more than he likes him. He’ll forgive her quickly. But arguing would make him sound like he expects to lose. And he most certainly does _not_.

Anyway, it’s just a plant. It’ll grow back.

Instead, hoping to take Byleth off guard, Felix lunges, intending to disarm her. But she moves quickly – so quickly that Felix could be forgiven for thinking she’d turned back the hands of time. But she had told him once that she only used it in matters of life and death, so grave and serious that Felix knows she would never use it unless she had to.

And she’d rather win these fights on her own merit.

Byleth doesn’t _need_ to turn back time to beat him, evenly matched as they are. It’s a thought that comes to him with equal parts ruefulness and proudness. Proud because his wife is so skilled and strong and she views only him as her equal.

Rueful because she has his back against the wall and an elbow at his throat, their swords locked by their sides.

Her face is close to his, and there’s mirth in her eyes and snow in her hair, and she is so very beautiful. She leans in even closer, and steals a kiss. Felix tangles his free hand in her hair, holding her to him, tilting his head to better deepen the kiss, tasting her for the first time in months.

Byleth sighs into his mouth. The arm at his throat disappears, and Felix feels her grip at his hip, pulling him closer.

He’s not sure which of them lets go of their sword first; all he knows is that suddenly both of Byleth’s hands are everywhere, touching him restlessly, while he contents himself with smoothing his hand over the curve of her hip.

Byleth brushes her lips softly against his cheek when she finally breaks the kiss, a small smile on her lips. Their harsh breaths mist in the cold air.

“Is that our first draw?” she murmurs, leaning back in to gently kiss the side of his mouth again.

Felix leans back against the wall, holding her tight to him. Seven months is too long to have been without this.

He glances down at the swords by their feet. “I don’t think so,” he replies, keeping his smirk at bay.

Byleth cocks her head at him, silently telling him to explain with a raised eyebrow.

“You yielded as soon as you kissed me,” he tells her, a little smug.

Her eyes narrow even as she snuggles in closer to him. But she doesn’t argue, no doubt remembering a rule they’d long since agreed upon – that if someone gave into their desires before either party had officially yielded, they lost the spar. It's the first time either of them have lost that way, though, no matter how much they've wanted. He supposes it should be expected after so long apart.

Byleth presses her face into his shoulder. “I thought you might not make it. The storm is supposed to be bad tonight. And they say it could be bad for weeks.”

_I thought you might be travelling in the blizzard, and I was worried,_ is what she’s saying. _I thought I’d have to wait even longer to see you again._

He brushes his lips against her temple. “I’m here now.” _I’m fine, and we’re together._

Byleth is silent for a moment before raising her head again. There’s a hint of sadness pulling at her eyes. “You only won on a technicality.”

She’s right. And it’s likely she would have beaten him if she hadn’t kissed him. She’s rested, while Felix is tired from travelling. But he’s not going to admit that.

“Tomorrow, then. I’ll beat you again. Properly.”

She smiles at that, the last of the sadness leaving her expression. Her gloved fingers touch his face lightly.

“We’ll see about that,” she says before kissing him again with all the aggression that Felix knows she’ll bring to the training grounds tomorrow. He loses himself in the kiss, in her taste, her heat, once again swearing to himself that they won’t be parted again.

Byleth pulls back first, with a shuddering breath. “We’re not actually under the mistletoe, you know.”

He scoffs. “So? We can kiss anywhere.”

“True.” Byleth pulls back from him, picking up her sword and sheathing it. Felix does the same before grabbing her hand and pulling her close again. She glances back at the arch with its mistletoe swaying in the wind, while he looks thoughtfully at the plant cruelly cut during their spar.

“You’ll need to tell Dedue about the plant.”

“Fine,” Byleth huffs, but with good humour. “He went to a lot of trouble to decorate the castle, though.”

“Then you should be more careful with your sword,” Felix says dryly.

She shoots him an amused look and begins pulling him towards the arch. “I think it would be a shame to not use the mistletoe as intended, considering his efforts.”

He doesn't change his tone. “A real shame.” 

Byleth settles her arms around his shoulders as soon as they step under the arch, smiling up at him, and Felix is seized by a sudden swell of emotion.

He swallows heavily. “I missed you.” The words are true, but feel inadequate.

Her face softens and he knows she feels the same way. “It’s been too long.”

“Never again.” He leans forward to brush his cold nose against hers.

She nods, stretching up to meet him in a kiss. “Never again.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be longer, angstier, and smuttier. But it's Christmas Eve and I've run out of time, and if I don't post it now I never will. Hope everyone enjoys the holidays. 💕


End file.
